A New War #1: The End Or The Beginning
by Asyr Sei'lar
Summary: Lieutenant Sam Redbay ends up in a different galaxy and is caught in a war he knows nothing about.
1. The Beginning Or The End?

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Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, that belongs to Lucasfilm. I also don't own Star Trek Voyager, which belongs to Paramount, or the Star Trek INVASION! series, which belongs to the various authors that created it, in this particular case to Dafydd Ab Hugh, Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch for the creation of Lieutenant Sam Redbay. Rogue Squadron characters belong to Michael Stackpole. No money is being made off this story (too goofy). This story contains a scene "The Final Fury." 

Historical note: For Star Wars, this occurs sometime between after Solo Command and during Isard's Revenge. For Star Trek Voyager, this occurs right after Voyager beats the Furies in "The Final Fury." 

Synopsis: Redbay isn't rescued in the Star Trek Voyager book "The Final Fury", and he jumps through the wormhole with the Fury planet. He ends up in a completely unknown galaxy, rescued by a mysterious "New Republic" and caught in a war he knows nothing about. Crossover Trek/Wars. 

Author: Asyr Sei'lar *[word]* indicates italics [emphasis, thoughts] 

Rogue One (Wedge Antilles) Rogue Two (Tycho Celchu) Rogue Three (Wes Janson) Rogue Four (Hobbie Klivan) Rogue Five (Gavin Darklighter) Rogue Six (Asyr Sei'lar) Rogue Seven (Myn Donos) Rogue Eight (Ooryl Qrygg) Rogue Nine (Corran Horn) Rogue Ten (Inyri Forge) 

A New War Chapter 1: The End or The Beginning? 

" . . . The Furies attempt to create an artificial wormhole large enough to transport their entire planet was largely successful," said Tuvok, Voyager's Vulcan chief of security. Captain Janeway was silent for a long time. 

"Then we failed," she said at last, mastering her emotions so completely that Tuvok was impressed. "Not exactly," said Chakotay, the ship's Amerindian first officer. "I don't know what B'Elanna did down there, but the Furies didn't jump to the Alpha Quadrant." 

"Tuvok just said—" 

"I said the effort was *largely* successful, Captain. They did, in fact, jump . . . *away* from the Alpha Quadrant." 

Janeway looked back and forth between her senior officers. "Do we know where they jumped to?" 

"No, Captain," said Chakotay. "We cannot narrow down the trail smaller than about a ninety-degree spread. They could have gone in any direction within that spread." 

"All right, where *might* they have gone? Which direction?" 

"They might have jumped into the Gamma Quadrant, or they might have jumped completely outside the galaxy."

"Mr. Tuvok, what are the odds that the Furies will jump anywhere near a star system?" 

"I have insufficient data to make even a plausible conjecture, Captain." She thought about a planet of twenty-seven billion condemned to wander for eternity, lost between the stars. Twenty-seven billion souls whose only crime was attempting to eradicate or enslave every living being in her home quadrant. 

"They must have had some provision for supporting their population away from a star," she mused; "they were planning a blind jump into *our* quadrant, after all." 

"That would be logical." Janeway leaned her head back, closing her eyes, not caring who saw her in such a state of exhaustion. 

"We didn't have to kill twenty-seven billion people. That counts for something, doesn't it?" 

She hadn't expected an answer; she got one anyway, from Tuvok. "It counts for much, Captain." 

"Hey, Lead," Rogue Three called over the comm band. "How did your date with Iella go?"

Rogue Lead's answer came slow and cautious. "What do you mean, my date with Iella?" 

"Come on," Rogue Four chimed in. "You met with her last night. For dinner. *Alone.* What does that imply to you?" 

"A date," Rogue Three said promptly. 

Rogue Lead abruptly broke into laughter. "It wasn't a date," he informed them between gasps for breath. "We were discussing the Lusankya situation." 

"Maybe," Rogue Four conceded. "It was still a date, though." Rogue Squadron continued its patrol mission, flying along the border between the New Republic and the Empire. Lead knew that the ribbing he received from the other pilots helped to relieve some of the tedium of this mission. He could certainly understand their restlessness. Rogue Squadron was an *action* squadron, not one that was meant to patrol borders. Still, here they were. 

"Lead, I'm picking up some kind of weird readings," Rogue Two said suddenly. "There's some time . . . *anomaly* forming. I've never encountered something like this before." 

"Neither have I," Lead said grimly. "Everyone, back off. Maintain a distance of three hundred klicks from this . . . whatever it is." 

"Understood, Lead," said Rogue Nine as the X-wings looped around, headed back a bit, then turned back to face the anomaly. Something suddenly blossomed in front of them, as if a black-gray-and-brown hole had suddenly opened in space. Rogue Nine frowned at his sensor readings. "Lead, there's a *planet* in there!" 

"It's emerging now," confirmed Lead. "We should see it in three . . . two . . . one . . . now." Right on schedule, a planet with mottled brown and black spots emerged. The anomaly swirled back into oblivion as the planet continued forward, its momentum bringing it toward the Rogues. 

"There are two ships launching," said Rogue Two. "Rogues, split up according to flight groups. I have One Flight, Rogue Four has Two Flight, Rogue Nine has Three Flight. Engage the enemy at will. I'm sending a message to the Mon Karren for reinforcements." 

"Understood, Lead," Rogue Nine said for all of them. "Three Flight, on me. We'll engage the ship tagged as Target-Two." The acknowledgments from his unit poured in. They surged toward the ships, S-foils raising into the distinct "X" configuration. The ship advanced on them slowly, an unexpected bonus for the Rogues. It meant being able to make high-speed maneuvers these alien ships wouldn't be able to match. Rogue Nine rose slightly above his wingmates, forming a triangle with the two lower ones. They strafed the ship quickly from all sides, hitting what they believed to be weapons arrays and engines. Rogue Nine looped back around quickly, getting ready for another run. 

"Sithspit!" he swore when he saw the readings. "No damage at all! What are these ships built of?" 

"Don't know, Nine," Seven answered him. "Whatever it is, it's strong. Really strong." 

The alien ships began to target the X-wings individually, sometimes coming too close for comfort. It was only the X-wings' superior speed that allowed the pilots to avoid the alien ships' fire. A blast partially caught Rogue Five's tail. "Lead, my hyperdrive's gone," Five said in a clipped tone. "Stabilizer's gone, engine's only partially functional." 

Lead sighed. "See if you can get out of this mess," he told Five. "Wait for Mon Karren, tell them what happened here if we don't make it but you do." 

"Yes, sir," Five said, sounding resigned. "Heading out now." 

"Lead, Rogue Two here. I've done analysis of the planet—" 

Lead grinned, despite the battle being waged. "When did you have time to do that?"

"I haven't exactly been in the center of this little fight," the other told him in a dry tone. "As I was saying, I did an analysis of the planet. There are twenty-seven billion aliens of various races on it." 

"Worse than Coruscant," Lead said. 

"Yes, but here's the interesting part: sensors have picked up a human life-sign." 

"Human?" Lead was startled. "We have to go and rescue whoever it is. Maybe they can tell us about this planet." 

"But, sir . . ." Two objected, "we're barely keeping *ourselves* alive!" 

"I know," Lead told him. "Ten, go down, find whoever it is. You're small, you might be able to fit whoever it is behind you. Nine, fly cover." 

The two X-wings peeled away from the battle, heading for the planet. Luckily, the battle was far enough away from the planet that they didn't need to worry about being hit by a stray laser bolt. They flew down into the murky atmosphere, locating the top of a building conveniently close to the human life-sign. 

"After you," Ten said as they approached the only door on the rooftop. Nine stepped boldly into the darkness beyond. 

They had to both grab onto the nearest wall, so disorienting was the architecture. The darkness had extended for only a few meters before they found the hallway lit with blood-red lamps. Not only that, but there were *bugs* in the air, flying around and around them. "I'm starting not to like this place," Ten commented weakly. "It's making me sick." 

"Make one heck of a place for a horror holo," said Nine, concentrating on his handheld sensor to block out the nausea. When they had recovered sufficiently, they continued on, moving quickly so as to ignore their unpleasant surroundings. They moved further and further down, into what seemed a dungeon of some sort. "There," Nine said at last, pointing to one of the doors. 

"Interesting," Ten said. "The doors are extremely strong and sophisticated, but the locks are rather primitive." She pulled out her blaster and shot the lock. Kicking the door in, she was completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her eyes. 

"By the Force . . ." Nine muttered, looking at the form that lay in front of him. What had once clearly been a man now seemed as alien as the architecture around them. His tunic seemed to have been black and red, but it was ripped beyond recognition. He had once been a tall man; now he was stooped. He once had boasted bright, red hair; now, only a few, discolored wisps remained, and the rest were gray and frayed. Ugly brown spots and blotches covered his skin; they might have once been freckles, now grown monstrous under tortures that must have involved ultraviolet radiation. His eyes were vacant and stared out into space. The man's skin was pallid where it wasn't spotty, with bloodred cracks marbling the surface. 

Ten felt her heart pull at her. "This is worse than the Empire ever did," she said softly. "These aliens have to be stopped." 

Nine shook his head. "It's a miracle he's even still alive." He approached the man, scooped him up, and headed for the door. "We have to get out of here. Fast." They ran back to their X-wings, picking up a couple of the aliens in pursuit. They unceremoniously dumped the man behind Ten's seat and blasted off the planet. As they exited the planet's atmosphere, they could see two Mon Calamarian Star Cruisers, the Mon Karren, and Home One, slugging it out with the alien ships, while Rogue Squadron made its way into Mon Karren's hangar. "Let's move it, Ten," Nine said as they headed back toward the Mon Cal cruisers at full burn. 

Medics were waiting for them as soon as they got in. The man they had rescued was immediately whisked off, while Rogue Five, Gavin Darklighter, was treated on the spot for superficial burns. Nine had offered to escort Ten to her quarters to make sure she was all right, but Ten shook her head. 

"I'll be fine," she lied. She smiled. "Really, I'll be okay." Nine, Corran Horn, looked at her in concern, but she merely lowered her droid out of its socket and shut down her X-wing without a hint of hesitation. 

She walked to her quarters, her astromech trailing behind her. Everytime she thought of that poor man, her fists clenched. How could anybody, even the Empire, carry out such cruel and unusual punishment? Had this human done something to provoke this treatment? Or was he merely a victim of circumstance? Utterly exhausted and emotionally drained, she collapsed onto her bed, not even bothering to change into sleepwear. She fell fast asleep. 

The man awoke in stages, aware that a bright light seared his eyes, even though they were closed. It was, in fact, that pain that finally brought him fully awake. "The light," he croaked, his throat dry. "Turn it off, please." The searing light abruptly vanished, leaving behind the pain. He opened his eyes to a dimly lit room, vaguely making out the shadows of the furniture.

"How do you feel?" a soft voice asked. 

Startled, he twisted his head around to see a woman smiling gently at him. He licked his dry lips. "Am I dead?" he asked, knowing at once how absurd the question was. The dead were not thirsty. The question, however, made the woman blink in surprise. 

"I'm afraid not," she said, a grim yet amused note in her voice. 

"Water," he rasped. "I need water." The woman poured some water from a pitcher into a cup. She gently held it to his lips as he greedily gulped it down. 

"Slowly," she cautioned, "your system's still in shock." 

When he finished, she replaced the cup on the table. "Are you sure I'm not dead?" he asked again. 

She snorted. "Quite. Why?" 

Despite the pain it caused him, he smiled. "Because, where I am, there are no women as beautiful as you." 

She blushed, her reaction surprising her. "Really," she said, forcing nonchalance into her voice. 

"Really," he assured her. He closed his eyes. "I've been to hell. No one should have to go there." She didn't know what "hell" was, but she gathered it was something bad. 

"What's your name?" she asked gently. 

"Sam . . . Sam Redbay," answering as if the name belonged to someone else. "Yours?" 

"Inyri Forge," she responded, glancing at her chrono. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Redbay." 

"Yes," he answered softly. 

There was a lull in the conversation. To fill in the silence, Inyri said, "You'll be fully recovered in a matter of hours. Psychologically, though . . ." She glanced at Sam, who had closed his eyes. "You'll probably have nightmares for the rest of your life. Talking to a counselor will help, but . . ." She paused. "Mr. Redbay—" 

"Sam," he interrupted.

"Sam," she continued, "the New Republic is very interested in that planet. They have no information on that species. You're going to be debriefed in a few hours, soon as you're out of the bacta tank—" 

He frowned. "New Republic?" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"What's this New Republic?" 

She stared at him in astonishment. "You mean you *don't* know what the New Republic is?" 

"No idea," he told her. "I come from another galaxy." 

"And you're human," she mused. "Interesting." 

Just then, the medics arrived to put him in the bacta tank. "What's happening now?" he asked. 

"They're going to put you in a bacta tank," she told him. 

A sudden panic rose up in him as he realized that his newfound savior would not be with him. "Please," he said desperately, "don't leave me! Please—" 

"I'll be right near the tank," she said soothingly. "You'll be able to see me." He relaxed somewhat, allowing the medics to shift him from his bed onto the hovergurney. Inyri followed them at a distance, reflecting on what had made her come visit Sam. It had been almost a . . . *compulsion,* as if she *had* to. She watched as they put him in the bacta tank, the green liquid swirling around him much as the anomaly had swirled open around the planet. He spotted her and waved feebly. She waved back, wondering about this mysterious man whom she had rescued. She had a feeling of impending . . . *something,* she did not quite know what. What did the future hold for the both of them? What did her "feeling" mean for her and this man? 


	2. Integration

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For Disclaimer, Synopsis, and Historical note, check Chapter 1 of "A New War." Exception: the character of Arikka Tyane belongs to me. For list of Rogue designations, again check Chapter 1. There are 2 new additions in this chapter, though. 

Author: Asyr Sei'lar 

A New War Chapter 2: Integration 

The conference room was packed as Mon Karren's senior officers, consisting of Admiral Ackbar, General Han Solo, Captain Jhemiti, and all of Rogue Squadron settled down at the table. Sam Redbay was also present, sitting next to Rogue Squadron pilot Inyri Forge. She squeezed his hand to reassure him as the admiral cleared his throat. 

"Mr. Redbay," Ackbar began, "perhaps you'd like to begin by telling us about where you come from." 

Sam took a deep breath, coughing a little as he did. He still looked extremely worse for the wear from the torture he had suffered at the hands of the Furies, but this "bacta" the New Republic used for medical treatments worked miracles. "I am from a government known as the United Federation of Planets, or Federation, for short," he began. "We are peaceful, having had no major conflicts for a number of years. The organization I work for, Starfleet, is the . . . military part of the Federation, in a sense, although it's a bit more complicated than that. We are trained not only as military officers, for defensive purposes only, but also as explorers, primarily, and diplomats, secondarily, as well as for going after criminals, if need be." 

Solo nodded. "A kind of all-purpose soldier." 

"With all due respect," Sam said emphatically, despite the headache he had, "we are *not* soldiers! We are explorers, seeking out new life-forms, new civilizations, new scientific phenomena." 

"Well, looks like you found one," Solo commented wryly. He regarded Sam appraisingly. "Do you know anything about that . . . anomaly that brought that unknown planet to our space?" 

Sam nodded. "We call it a 'wormhole,'" he explained. "Basically, it's a shortcut through space and time to another location. All natural wormholes encountered, except the Bajoran wormhole, are highly unstable. Known attempts to construct artificial ones have failed, with the exception of the Furies, the species that tortured me." There was a note of pain in his voice, which he quickly covered up. 

"And these Furies?" Captain Jhemiti spoke up. "What about them?" 

Sam bit his lip in obvious hesitation. "They are an ancient race," he said at last, in a low voice, "which once enslaved the entire area that the Federation covers nowadays. Something kicked them out—we don't who—and they spent millennia plotting their revenge and takeover of our space, believing it was *our* ancestors who kicked them out." 

"I take it it wasn't," said Ackbar. 

"No," Sam agreed. "We were too primitive at the time to do anything." He choked back a sob. "They came back, starting a war. They used their terror projectors on us, paralyzing us." He stared into space, sorting through painful memories. "They came through in a wormhole. Someone had to go in to destroy the wormhole device, to head off an invasion. It was a suicide mission. I made it through. They caught me just after I destroyed it. Tortured me." He began crying, the memory too much for him. Inyri led him away, leaning his weight on hers so it would be less painful for him to walk. Everybody stared at the door which the broken man had gone through. 

"Meeting adjourned," concluded Ackbar in a strangely strangled voice. 

Inyri made sure Sam was back in bed before leaving. She hesitated at the door, General Solo's comment about all-purpose soldiers coming back to her. "Sam," she asked carefully, "what was your job in Starfleet?" 

He smiled painfully. "I was a pilot, testing new types of shuttles and runabouts," he told her. "Why?" 

She cocked her head. "Well," she pointed out, "there's no way to get you back to your 'Federation.' You're going to need to do *something* in this galaxy. Maybe I can convince Commander Antilles to include you in Rogue Squadron. As it turns out, we're two pilots shy of a full squadron. We've got one pilot replacement, but we're waiting to get her a wingman. You could be it." 

"Sure. Why not?" His smile increased. "If only to be near you. You *are* in this squadron, right?" 

"Yes," she answered. She looked at him. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly. 

"A lot better than I should under the circumstances," he replied. "The doctors are convinced I should make a complete recovery in a couple of days." He paused. "Much of my recovery I can attribute to you," he said quietly. "You've helped me a lot, Inyri." 

"Oh, really," she said neutrally. 

"Yes, really," he said patiently. He looked up at her, the movement for once causing him no pain. He smiled. "So, when do I get tested as a potential member for this 'Rogue Squadron?'" 

She smiled back. "I have to talk to Commander Antilles first," she reprimanded him gently. She turned and headed out the door with a "good-bye" thrown over her shoulder. 

Wedge had approved the test, and Sam had performed admirably, despite his disabilities. The Rogues' other new pilot was being shuttled over from her previous assignment. In general, life seemed to move smoothly for Sam Redbay. He made friends with all the pilots, and shared a special relationship with Inyri Forge, though neither admitted to any feelings other than friendship. He was one of the best pilots in the squadron. There had been no battles as of late, but that didn't bother the Rogues. 

He met his new wingmate, a serious, dark-haired woman named Arikka Tyane. She seemed to have no sense of humor, though she seemed to derive amusement from her wingmate's more dry humor. She had a combative attitude, and was sometimes rather belligerent. The Rogues were all the mess hall when the alert klaxons went off. The pilots all immediately dropped their food and sprinted for their X-wings. 

"What's going on?" Sam shouted at Inyri as they entered the hangar. 

"The Empire," she said grimly, entering her X-wing as her astromech droid was lowered into the droid interface socket. "They're attacking." 

An idea of what was going on suddenly occurred to Sam. "Are we are war?" he asked cautiously. 

"Yes," she answered. She stared at him. "You didn't know?" 

"No one told me." Sheepishly, he added, "I didn't bother to study up on the New Republic." He jumped out of his X-wing. 

"What are you doing?" Inyri demanded, alarm is her voice. 

Sam shook his head. "I'm a Starfleet officer," he pointed out. "I'm forbidden, by law, to participate in a war that's not mine, that's not something other than strictly defense." 

"You're a long way from Starfleet," she noted, "and you joined Rogue Squadron, so that makes you part of the New Republic. Therefore, you're at war." 

"I guess you're right," he said reluctantly. He climbed back into his X-wing, and joined the other Rogues outside the ship. *When I get back,* he promised himself, *I'm going to find out everything I can about this New Republic and its fight with this Empire.* He saw a large wedge-shaped ship, hanging a couple of thousand kilometers away. "Holy mackerel!" he swore. "Look at the size of that thing. It's bigger than three Galaxy-class starships put together!" 

"Cut the chatter, Eleven," Lead told him. "Rogues, split into wing pairs and engage TIEs at will." 

Sam knew that the "TIEs" were the enemy starfighters they were facing. The Twin Ion Engine fighters were the Empire's starfighter of choice. They were more maneuverable than the X-wings, and considerably faster, though, unlike the X-wing, they had no shields. Sam and Arikka engaged several TIEs at once, helping each other make kills, earning the rank of "ace" in one battle, which came with having five kills. 

Arikka was looping back around from one such battle when she saw one TIE zooming in on Sam. "Eleven, you have a tail," she called out. 

"Can't shake him," Sam called back as he performed evasive maneuvers. Arikka caught a flash of red stripes on the TIE's wing. 

"He's from the 181st Fighter group," she muttered. "No wonder he's so good." Arikka watched as the TIE shot up Sam's engines in range of the Star Destroyer, which latched onto the damaged starfighter with a tractor beam and hauled it into an open hangar bay. An unexpected sob of grief rose up in Arikka. "Sam," she moaned. She recovered enough to tell Lead Eleven was gone. Suppressing her emotions, she continued on fighting, hoping against hope that her wingmate was still alive. 

Sam found himself in a monstrous hangar bay, surrounded by dozens of TIEs. Something hit the side of his X-wing. He looked down. A squad of troopers clad in white armor surrounded his X-wing. He opened his canopy and jumped out. Before he could rise out of the crouch he had landed in, one of the troopers hit him on the side of the head. Dazed, he went down on his knees, fighting to stay conscious. The troopers hit him once more in the small of his back, then hauled him up. 

They made him stagger out of the hangar bay, moving deeper into the ship towards a detention center. Throwing him into a cell, they shut the door behind themselves. He promptly crawled over to the refresher station and threw up. Nausea still swirled around inside, making him want to throw up everything including his internal organs. Still dizzy, he crawled over to the bunk and lay down, the world turning around him. 

"No!" A datapad went flying into the wall. "No! No! No!" A boot and a holopad soon joined it. "Nooooo!" Inyri dropped to her knees, sobs shaking her slender frame. "He can't be dead! He can't!" she wailed. 

Corran and the others watched uncomfortably as Inyri continued crying. "I didn't say he was dead," Arikka reminded the other woman gently. "Just that he had been captured by the Chimaera." 

"He might as well be dead," Inyri said between sobs. "We can't exactly find the Chimaera, you know. If we could, Grand Admiral Thrawn would be long dead." 

"True," Corran Horn said. He walked over and crouched beside her. "Don't worry, Inyri," he said gently. "We'll find him, bring him back." 

She shook her head. "It's impossible." 

"Impossible is what we do best." Corran glanced at the others for agreement. "Right?" 

"Right," Wes Janson confirmed as he crouched beside Inyri on the other side. "He'll be back before I pull another trick on Wedge, guaranteed." 

Corran shook his head in amusement as Janson's comment, but it failed to cheer Inyri up. She held her face in her hands, silver tears streaming down her fingers, dropping onto her knees. Corran hadn't known the depth that Sam and Inyri's "relationship" had been, seeing now had close the two had been. Corran gathered her in a comforting embrace. "It's all right," he said softly. "It's all right." 

Inyri cried on his shoulder, mourning the loss of Sam. She knew there was—had been— something between them, a special feeling, a closeness that could not be matched by friendship. She knew that, given the chance, their feelings could have evolved into love. Now that chance was gone before it could have even flourished. *Good-bye, my love,* she thought, as the stars outside of the viewport in her quarters shone in all their unearthly, cold beauty. 

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	3. Dark Fury

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For Disclaimer, Synopsis, etc. see Chapter 1. Addition: The characters of Thrawn and C'Baoth belong to Zahn. The character of Arikka Tyane/Rogue Twelve belongs to me. Song: "Over and Over" belongs to Emjay. "I want to spend my lifetime loving you" belongs to Marc Anthony and Tina Arena. Author: Asyr Sei'lar 

A New War Chapter 3: Dark Fury 

Sam Redbay woke to total darkness. For a moment, panic overwhelmed him as memories from his time among the Furies slipped through his mind. His conscious mind stepped in right then, reminding him of his current ordeal. 

He carefully felt his way to the refresher, making sure he didn't trip over his unsteady feet. Slowly, but surely, he made his way along the wall. Harsh lights suddenly flashed on, blinding him. He dropped to his knees, covering his eyes to protect them. This type of torture had been going on for the past two days, along with starvation, dizzying holograms, and the occasional roughing up by the guards. 

*I'm alive,* he told himself whenever the pain became too much. *I survived the Furies, I can certainly survive this.* He made his way stoically to the refresher, determined more than ever to get out of there and back to the New Republic. 

The bridge of the Chimaera was extremely busy as the crew prepared for a hyperspace jump to the Sluis Van shipyards. Joruus C'Baoth, the clone of the long-dead Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth, sat at one of the rear stations directly behind Grand Admiral Thrawn. "I demand my Jedi," C'Baoth rumbled. "Your Noghri have failed again and again, *Grand* Admiral Thrawn," he said, emphasizing the title sarcastically. 

One of the blue-black eyebrows that covered Thrawn's glowing red eyes rose. "I assure, Master C'Baoth," he said calmly, "you will receive your Jedi soon enough. For now, your talents are required." 

C'Baoth appeared to still be smoldering, but he closed his eyes, drawing on the Force to contact the other ships. There appeared to be some disturbance in the Force . . . C'Baoth frowned. Whatever the disturbance was, it appeared to be located extremely close. Searching, searching . . . Ah, there it was. It appeared to be someone who was extremely strong in the Force, yet unaware of it. C'Baoth smiled coldly. *Perhaps even stronger than Skywalker...* he mused. *This one could be turned easily.* 

Captain Pellaeon noted the cold smile on C'Baoth's face amid the strain located there as well with concern. In his opinion, C'Baoth would and is turning into too much of a problem. He seemed to be enjoying his work *too* much. Thrawn noted Pellaeon's glance at C'Baoth. "Leave him be, Captain," Thrawn said. "He's doing what he enjoys most. Controlling people." 

"The technology at your command is nothing compared to the power of the Force," said the other in a quiet voice. "As is the power you offer me." The Jedi was clearly enjoying the moment. "Did you know, for example," he said casually, "that there is a Force user on board this ship?" 

Unconsciously, Pellaeon sat up straighter. "Skywalker?" he demanded. 

"Hardly, Captain," the Jedi answered. "No, this one does not realize he has the Force at his command. I could easily turn him to the dark side." 

"Where is he currently?" Thrawn asked. 

"In the detention center," the Jedi answered. 

"There's only one prisoner there currently, sir," Pellaeon informed Thrawn. "A Rebel pilot. He's still in phase one of interrogation, but he's proving unusually resistant." 

Thrawn could see Pellaeon was hesitating about something. "What else, Captain?" 

"He was found with some unusual devices. One appeared to be a communications device, but it was rather small, and appeared to do more than just open a channel. Another appeared to be a handheld sensor, but far more sophisticated than anything we or the New Republic has. The last object appeared to be some type of weapon, but it was shaped strangely. Also, we can see it fire, but we can't pick up any type of ion residue, the way you would with a regular blaster. Unfortunately, all the devices blew up before we could test them further." 

"I see," Thrawn said. He swiveled to face C'Baoth. "It seems as though your 'Jedi' is more than he appears to be." 

The Jedi smiled. "Rest assured, Admiral, I *will* turn him to the Dark Side." 

The Sluis Van battle went badly for the Imperial troops, as Thrawn's plan to steal the Mon Cal Cruisers was foiled by Lando Calrissian and Han Solo. Rogue Squadron was present as well. Sam was only aware there was a battle being fought, a temporary reprieve from the torture they had been putting him through. He sat on his bunk, trying to keep himself in one piece as the ship shook from the multiple turbolaser blasts it took. 

He closed his eyes, praying that he remained alive and able to get back to Rogue Squadron. *And to Inyri. God, how I miss her . . . * He lay down and closed his eyes, oblivious to the shaking of the ship. 

He felt his mind reaching out … for what? A strange sensation suddenly hit him. It was like he could reach out and see the battle being waged. X-wings flew and shot up TIEs, among them Rogue Squadron. *All right,* he cheered silently. *Go Rogues!* 

Another thought struck him. If the Rogues were here, why not find out if he could see Inyri? Stretching his mind, he was startled when he could almost *hear* her thoughts. *Inyri,* he called tentatively. *Inyri, can you hear me?* 

Startled, Inyri nearly got herself vaped. She flew out of the main battle before tentatively calling back: *Sam . . . ?* 

*It's me,* he confirmed. *For some reason, I can talk to you, mind to mind.* A pause. *I miss you, Inyri.* 

*I miss you, too, Sam,* she answered warmly. *Where are you?* 

*Aboard the Chimaera,* he responded. *I'm stuck in the detention center, no way out.* Another pause. *I love you, Inyri.* 

*I love you—* Their connection was abruptly blocked as another voice insinuated itself in Sam's mind. 

*You will come to me,* the voice said. *Who is this?* Sam wondered. *You will come to me,* the voice repeated. *You will become my apprentice and you will learn great power.* 

*What are you *talking* about?* 

The voice paused. *You mean you do not recognize the Force within yourself?* 

*What Force? What is this Force?* 

*Come to me,* the voice repeated for third time, *and I will explain everything.* 

Sam woke up abruptly, sweat pouring down his face. Had he dreamed everything? No, a clear memory of what had happened remained in his mind and didn't fade, unlike dreams usually did. The contact with the unknown voice had left him feeling extremely cold. He shivered, wondering, with this new factor in his situation, if he would ever make it out alive after all. 

"It *was* him," Inyri insisted. "He called to me somehow, maybe using the Force, I don't know. But he did. We talked. He told me he was in the Chimaera's detention center, with no way out." 

"What else did he tell you?" Wedge Antilles asked carefully. They were seated in one of Home One's lounges, Wedge hoping the informal setting would put Inyri more at ease. The other squadron members were scattered around the lounge, sipping drinks, chattering happily after the victory. Inyri, however, had a serious look on her face, matched by Wedge's somber one. 

Inyri blushed unexpectedly. "He . . . um . . . this is kind of personal, Commander. Absolutely no relevance to the matter at hand." 

"Inyri . . ." Wedge warned. 

"All right." She looked away. "He told he loved me. That he missed me terribly. That's basically it. Our contact was brief, and cut off when I was about to tell him I loved him back." 

Wedge saw the sudden look of pain in her eyes. "I understand," he told softly. He nodded and rose. A crooked half-smile appeared on his face. "I won't bug you anymore." 

Inyri barely registered her commanding officer's departure, so caught up in her pain was she. *Sam,* she called, *wherever you are, we're coming for you. Understand? We're coming.* 

Inyri's call awoke Sam from his light doze. That was not the only thing, however. He could hear footsteps outside his door. Loud, rhythmic ones. 

The door to his cell slid open, revealing two of the white-armor-clad troopers, and a tall man in robes. The man smiled, yet Sam could have sworn there was menace lurking behind that smile. "You are he," the man said in oddly echoing voice. Odd because the room didn't allow for echoes. 

His voice struck a cord in Sam's memory. "You're the one who spoke to me in my thoughts," he blurted out. 

Anger suddenly flared on the man's face. "Do not speak of such things in front of lesser beings," he bit out. Abruptly, he turned and headed out the door. "Come." Sam shook his head in wonder. What was wrong with this man? He didn't quite seem sane with such rapidly shifting emotions . . . 

A trooper poked him in the back with his blaster. "Move it, Rebel scum," the trooper said. Sam moved obediently, following the man in the robes. He had a feeling of impending doom, but he couldn't pinpoint anything specific. 

Images of Inyri welled up, as well as a profound sense of regret that he couldn't be with her. An old song from Earth's twentieth century wandered through his mind, reminding him how often Inyri's face cropped up in his thoughts. 

"Over and over I see your face Over and over I long for your embrace Can't stop thinking about you, Thinking about you, Over and over . . ." 

They entered private quarters fit for a high-ranking visitor, then entered what Sam thought of as the "inner sanctum." It was surprisingly spare, with only a couple of mats in the center. The door slid shut behind Sam, leaving the troopers outside. He watched the man nervously, wondering what was going to happen next. 

The old man nodded at the mats. "Sit," he commanded. 

Sam found himself sitting cross-legged on one of the mats. *What happened?* he asked himself. *How did I go from standing to sitting without realizing it?* The old man fluidly sat down, raising the danger rating Sam had given him. 

"Now," the man said, "we begin your training." 

"Whoa, wait a minute," Sam said cautiously. "What training?" 

"Your training," the man said, "as a Force-user." 

"What's this Force?" Sam demanded impatiently. 

The man smiled. *Good, he is impatient. Already on the path to the dark side.* "It is a field generated by all living beings. It permeates the entire universe, from the life-rich forest to the cold vacuum of space. The Jedi are the group of people who can control and use the Force for their own purposes." 

"Are you a Jedi?" Sam asked warily. 

The man smiled coldly. "Yes," he answered. He stared intently into Sam's eyes. Sam was startled. "Grand Admiral Thrawn has instructed that I extract all relevant information from your mind, since you are proving resistant to standard interrogation techniques." 

Sam tried to get away from him, but his body seemed frozen in place. His sight faded away as his eyes closed and his mind focused on trying to keep this man from his mind. The old man's mind slipped past his defenses. Sam fought a losing battle to shield his mind against the intruder. The man rammed through his defenses as effortlessly as a knife through water. 

Sam finally gave up, focusing on finding out as much about this man as he could. Because the man had to open his defenses to reach to Sam's mind, he was as vulnerable to the same sort of attack he had used on Sam. Sam dove through his memories, focusing on the more recent ones. He also sorted through the information stored in the man's brain. A name appeared to him . . . Joruus C'Baoth. Images of space battles, memories of the long-range communications required to coordinate battles for Thrawn. Information on what exactly the Force was, history of the Jedi and their battles with the Sith, history of then Old Republic, the Rebellion, and what he knew of the current new Rebellion. What he knew of Thrawn's plans, and his own plans. 

*Oh my God,* Sam exclaimed silently. He had discovered Thrawn's use of the Spaarti cylinder to provide enough crewpeople for the defeat of the Rebellion. The worse part was the discovery of C'Baoth's own plans. Because the clones' minds were alike, and C'Baoth knew how to control minds, he was planning to take control of the clones' minds so as to provide him a personal army he could use against anyone, friend or foe. *He is insane . . . I have to escape,* Sam thought desperately. *Somehow . . .* 

*There is no escape.* C'Baoth's laughter echoed derisively in his mind. *I will turn you.* 

Sam broke contact forcefully, surprising C'Baoth before he could stop Sam. Free of C'Baoth's influence, if only momentarily, he ran out of the room, hitting one of the troopers and grabbing his gun. The other trooper fired, the blaster bolt missing Sam by inches. Sam fired back, but not before he heard the other trooper calling for backup.

He reached out with his newly acquired Force senses, based on the information he had extracted from C'Baoth's mind on Jedi techniques. He sensed where his astromech droid was being kept, a cargo bay just off the main hangar bay. 

C'Baoth's laughter continued to ring in his mind. He came up against Force barriers, images of C'Baoth in the corner of his eye, always mockingly dancing in and out of focus, things that suddenly came flying at him. His hair was coated with sweat, fear rising up in him. *I'm about to go as insane as he is,* Sam though grimly. *This isn't a ship, it's a funhouse. A really warped one.* 

He managed to reach the entrance to the cargo bay and release his astromech droid, but his way to the hangar bay was blocked by C'Baoth, wielding a lightsaber. "How *dare* you disobey me!" C'Baoth shouted. 

"You're not getting me!" Sam shouted back defiantly. 

A sly look slipped on to C'Baoth's face. He tossed an extra lightsaber to Sam. "You must prove yourself," he said, almost purring, "to be my apprentice." 

Sam shuddered. C'Baoth seemed to be becoming more unstable with each passing moment. It was only a matter of time before he exploded and hurt somebody. 

He ignited the lightsaber and assumed a guard position that he had learned in some of the few fencing lessons he had taken at his sister's behest. C'Baoth parried with an aggressive stance. He immediately began attacking. Sam was barely able to block the blows C'Baoth showered on him. 

*He's too fast. Time to change the rules.* Sam slipped into a crouch, and, in one fluid movement, extended his leg out to swipe C'Baoth's feet from under him. C'Baoth fell to the floor with a loud bang. Sam sprinted toward his X-wing. His astromech, Bat, was already next to the X-wing. Sam levitated Bat into the astromech socket, then leaped into the cockpit as Bat raised the canopy. There were shouts from assorted techs and troopers, but nobody was fast enough to stop the agile little fighter from blasting its way out. "Bye-bye suckers!" Sam yelled in pure relief as his X-wing shot into hyperspace. 

"So then I got my X-wing into hyperspace. That's basically it," Sam concluded as he looked at all his friends from Rogue Squadron assembled around his bed in the medical center. Inyri squeezed his hand. He turned his head and smiled at her. 

Corran rose from his position across from Inyri, smiling mischievously. "Let's leave, guys," he suggested. "I think they want some time alone." 

Sam hardly noticed as the rest of Rogue Squadron filed out the door. His attention was completely on Inyri. "I was afraid I'd never see you again," he said softly, the very idea threatening to choke him with emotion. 

She stroked his cheek. "Well, you're back," she said simply.

He laughed. "Indeed." He grew sober. "I love you, Inyri Forge. I've never really felt this way about anyone else before. I know I may never see the Federation again for the rest of my life, but I'd like to have at least some happiness in my new life. I know that I can have it with you. I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you. Even if I do get a chance to go back, I won't. Not without you, anyway." 

She blushed. "I love you, too, Sam. Ever since I first met you, you've intrigued me. I've . . . never met anyone like you before. I was, well . . . sad, when I didn't get a chance to tell you I loved you back. But now I'm telling you." 

Sam sat up, embracing Inyri. She smiled in pure delight, her emotions too overwhelming for description. Swept up in their emotions, their lips met, everything else fading into the background. When at last they let go, Sam sighed contentedly, Inyri resting her head on his chest. They sat together in companionable silence, watching the stars fly past them on the viewport in Sam's medical suite. 

"Moon so bright, night so fine, Keep your heart, here with mine, Life's a dream, we are dreaming. 

Chase the moon, catch the wind, Ride the night to the end, Seize the day, Stand up for the light. 

I want to spend my lifetime loving you . . ." 

La Fin! 


End file.
